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After The Varg {Riv Yavtry} (Mg, Mfg, preg, sci-fi) 
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I was ready, or as ready as I was likely to be. I pressed the button
on the intercom.

"Next please," I requested in a matter-of-fact voice.

A few moments later the door slid open. I couldn't have done better
if I'd chosen the girl myself; Caucasian, slim, chestnut hair, hazel
eyes, flat chest and bald pussy. At first the girls wore clothes, but
now they turned up naked to save time.

Despite its recent service, my cock sprang to attention. On seeing
it, the girl looked like a rabbit trapped in headlights.

"What's your name?" I asked. It didn't really matter. There had been
so many that I'd never remember, but I wasn't a complete monster and
I found a little conversation first helped the girls relax.

"Zoe," she replied.

"Do you know why you're here?"

"You're going to make me pregnant."

Gentle questioning of earlier subjects had elicited that parents
were desperate to offer their daughters, even prepared to pay large
bribes to the authorities, to have them sent to me for impregnation.
On acceptance, the girls had their hymens surgically removed to make
things easier, then they were given a crash course in sex education
followed by hormone treatments to cause premature ovulation. 

There were rules, of course. I could have a blowjob, but only if I
needed help to get hard, and I wasn't allowed to cum that way. Anal
sex was a complete no-no. And I wasn't allowed to distress the
subjects more than necessary, not that they could have done anything
about it. The only others present were a handful of female medical
staff to look after the subjects' health. That was a sensible
precaution. I was the most hated human being of all time, and I
couldn't risk someone deciding to give me what they thought I
deserved.

"And you're okay with that?"

"I'm cool. I'll be the first in my class to have sex, and I'm the
first in my class to visit space."

A virgin, like most of the girls. And despite the advances in
artificial gravity, it was impossible to stop irreplaceable calcium
leaching from the bones of children during inevitable periods of
weightlessness. So children were banned from space. Apart from this
situation.

"Hop onto the bed then and we'll get down to business."

Zoe crawled onto the bed and lay on her back in the middle. I knelt
on the foot of the bed, lubing my cock.

"Open your legs wide," I instructed.

Zoe was a beauty, with gorgeous puffy labia showing pink in the
middle. With the first few girls I had tried extended foreplay,
including licking their cunnies and playing with their clits. I had
stimulated one girl to orgasm and spent half a day with her,
something humanity could ill afford. A few others had become slightly
moist but mostly it was a waste of time.

I moved between the girl's legs. This one was special, like so many,
and I would have liked to indulge in foreplay with her, but I was so
tired. I settled for giving her a short, gentle rub between the legs.
She started when I first touched her, then relaxed and even seemed to
get some enjoyment from it.

I parted the lips of Zoe's cunny. "Here I come," I warned. 

"Will it hurt?" she asked.

"I'm afraid the first time is usually not much fun. I'll try to get
it over with quickly."

I thrust in hard, as deep as I could go, which was only about
halfway before I hit her cervix. Zoe was hot and tight and I knew
that I wasn't going to last long. Zoe grimaced. She wasn't ready for
me, but they never are.

"I'm sorry, I'll try to be gentle."

Zoe nodded her head as though giving her assent for me to continue.
Her bottom lip was quivering and her eyes moist, and I knew she
couldn't speak or she'd start to cry. I started thrusting in and out
of Zoe's cunny, jolting her small body every time.

****

The scientists named it homoetherisation.

As a child on earth you quickly learn there's an up and a down, due
to gravity. Later you learn there's a North and a South, thanks to
magnetism. Scientists discovered that the ether also contains an
inbuilt set of coordinates. The reasons aren't completely understood,
but using colossal amounts of energy it's possible to make a piece of
space think it's somewhere else, and hey presto, somehow it is.

The discovery of this loophole in the laws of physics meant that
people could travel almost anywhere instantaneously, and it fired the
imagination of every boy on earth. Like millions of others, I
desperately wanted to be an astronaut when I grew up.

Experiments taught us that this opportunity had to be handled
extremely carefully because there were so many things that could and
did go wrong. Humanity built one exceedingly expensive facility out
beyond the asteroid belt. A space ship would navigate to a particular
region of space near the middle of the facility, massive generators
surrounding the region would fire up, the ether would think it was
somewhere else and the space ship would propel itself out of the
region of space into the unknown. At an agreed time later, usually
six months or a year, the generators would fire up again and if the
space ship had returned to the region of space being replicated, it
would find itself back in the solar system. If the ship didn't make
it on time, the generators would fire up again three months later. If
the ship didn't make it the second time, the mission was written off
as lost. 

On my eleventh birthday, like every child on the planet, I underwent
my mandatory psyche evaluation. It showed that I wouldn't become an
alcoholic or drug addict, I wouldn't become a reckless gambler, and I
was well suited to the space program. It also said something I didn't
understand at the time; it said I would become a pedophile.

I looked up the word, but the practical ramifications didn't sink in
till much later. It meant that I wouldn't be visiting distant worlds
and meeting new civilisations. Instead, I ended up as a uranium miner
in the Kuiper Belt, a lonely and dangerous job. Regulations
stipulated that everyone who worked off-planet was entitled to three
months on earth for every six months away, but since my time on earth
was spent in enforced isolation because of my condition, I often went
much longer without claiming my due.

Exploration found that the universe is a very empty place, and those
advanced civilisations we did encounter were generally unwelcoming.
The Varg seemed like a rare exception, friendly and welcoming. They
even looked a little like us. 

From my lonely isolation in the Kuiper Belt, I followed the story
via internet news broadcasts from earth. At first scientists didn't
know the origins of the virus that attacked the human race. It turned
out that the Varg had irretrievably damaged their own planet like we
nearly did at the end of the twenty-first century, and saw our
arrival as an opportunity to use our technology to conquer earth and
claim it for themselves. When the penny dropped, we expelled the Varg
'ambassadors' and sent them back to Varga on a ship packed with nukes.

As my tour of duty wore on, the horrendous legacy of the Varg virus
became apparent - every male primate on earth had been rendered
infertile. Earth was quarantined, and everyone still in space was
barred from returning. That didn't worry me, as I had little to
return for. The transmission method of the virus had not been
determined, but scientists had managed to create clean rooms and
impregnate women with sperm samples taken from before the attack.
Scientists calculated that this would be insufficient to keep the
population of earth large enough to sustain its current level of
technological civilisation.

After several months, scientists worked out that the virus was
airborne. Massive filtration complexes were set up to cleanse the
earth's air, and after a year the planet was declared safe and space
travellers were allowed to return home. Three months later the
horrendous miscalculation became apparent. Plants fixed the active
virus in their cells and although it was destroyed by cooking, anyone
who ate a salad or fresh fruit would be infected. One of the things
astronauts most missed when in space was a nice crisp apple, or a
fresh, juicy orange. All the returning astronauts became infected and
infertile.

A couple more years passed. The situation on earth became desperate.
The problem with the virus in plants was under control and being
fixed a little at a time, but birth rates were down to a handful per
year. I had been forgotten about, and I didn't really care. It's only
when all the uranium ore collection hoppers were full that I realised
I was serving no purpose out in the Kuiper Belt and I set off for
home.

Earth Defence radar was still working, and I was challenged when I
came within range. I gave my details and waited. After a few minutes
another voice came on air.

"This is General Ivan Bordinov of the United Nations Security
Council. How long have you been in space?"

I quickly totted it up in my head.

"About five years."

"And you've had no contact with other humans in that time."

"No."

"Do you know about the situation on earth?" 

"Yes, I've kept in touch with the news."

"Are you still fertile?"

"Yes." I had tested my sperm using the space ship's lab facilities
because I expected to be asked this question. I recited my sperm
count and heard whoops of celebration in the background.

"We're preparing a quarantined landing site for you. You will be
giving a lot of sperm samples when you're back on earth. There are an
awful lot of women requiring artificial insemination."

I thought for a while. It belatedly occurred to me that I might well
turn out to be the saviour of the human race, and I was in a strong
bargaining position.

"No."

"What?" The general lost his composure. "It's your duty to humanity.
If you don't do as we say, we'll force you," he barked.

"You've read my file?" I asked.

"Yes."

"It seems to me that humanity owes me something after shunning me
all these years. I'll tell you what I want and either you agree or
I'll just fly back where I came from. There are enough supplies still
out there to last me a lifetime and you'll never find me."

"Damn you to hell," the general shouted back. The connection went
dead.

Time passed. One hour, then two then three. I pondered my situation
and formulated and refined a set of demands. I was pretty sure I had
assessed the situation correctly and they would be desperate for my
services. Eventually the radio burst into life again.

"Hello, are you still there?" A stupid question, since they could
see me on the radar. The voice was mellow and female.

"Yes, I'm still here.  

"My name is Lucinda Whitely. I've been authorised to negotiate on
behalf of the UN. Can you let me know what you want? I may be able to
accept some conditions immediately, others I'll have to refer to the
Security Council."

"You know I'm a pedophile, don't you?"

"Yes." She disguised any distaste extremely well.

"I want a self-contained space station orbiting the earth with the
latest artificial gravity devices. You will send subjects up to the
space station and I will impregnate them for you. All preteen, good
looking, slim, no pubic hair and AA cup maximum."

"You realise that very few girls are fertile at that age?"

"You can fix that with hormones, can't you?"

"I'll look into it. I suppose they all have to be virgins with
intact hymens?"

"No, in fact it would be easier on the girls if they weren't." I
could tell that Lucinda was surprised by that, but I try not to be
the monster that everyone expects me to be. We discussed a few more
conditions and Lucinda even suggested a few herself. The one about no
men on board the space station was her idea since I was an asset that
needed protection. Eventually we finished the list and Lucinda said
she would go away and propose to the Security Council that they
accept.

Two days later the Security Council accepted in full.

Six months later I had my space station, and they did me proud.
Compared to my humble space ship, it seemed the last word in luxury.

At first people were disgusted at the idea of sending their preteen
daughters to me, but as the earth's plight became more and more
apparent, the tide of opinion changed and suddenly everyone wanted to
send their daughters. The first few were the most difficult. I'm not
a complete monster and I tried to seduce the little beauties. I
quickly realised that most of the girls had not yet developed sexual
feelings and that spending time on seduction was just a waste.

The girls stayed on the station until they were confirmed as
pregnant. The hormone treatment meant that the girls often produced
multiple eggs, and multiple fertilisation was common. My record so
far is nine fertilised embryos growing inside the womb of an eleven-
year-old-girl. The girls are far too young to carry to term so back
on earth the embryos are extracted when large enough, and re-
implanted into surrogate mothers. The girls' mother or a close
relative gets the first, the others are allocated by lots from a pool
of healthy women deemed likely to be good parents and of the same
racial type as the girl. If the girls go two cycles without getting
pregnant, they are shipped back to earth as failures. 

The quality of the girls they send is beyond my wildest dreams,
including all races and skin colours. I thought I detected one or two
who had cheated and shaved, but provided they look young enough and
have undeveloped breasts, I don't complain.

**** 

I felt my groin tighten and my sap start to rise. I speeded up my
thrusts into Zoe's tender young body.

"Here it comes," I warned her.

Suddenly my cock started throbbing and spewing my baby juice into
Zoe's unprotected cunny. I kept thrusting until the throbbing died
away, then my cock lost its stiffness and slid out. I saw Zoe was
still on the point of crying, so I took her in my arms and cuddled
her.

"It's over now. Thank you.  It was a pleasure and I enjoyed your
company."

At that, Zoe seemed to cheer up a bit.

"What do I do now?" she asked.

"I can't service another girl for half an hour or so, so we can lie
here and rest if you want. Or you can go back to your cabin. There's
a refreshment server in the anteroom if you're hungry or thirsty. The
medics should be able to tell within a week if it worked. If not we
can have another go."

"May I stay with you for a while? It feels nice, lying here like
this. Some people made you out to be a monster, but you're quite
ordinary really."

Apart from impregnating thousands of pre-teen girls, that is.

"Do you know who will carry the baby?" 

"My mother."

"So you're going to have a brother or sister? Do you mind which?"

"It would be nice to have a sister so we could share things, but I'd
like a brother too because the human race needs fertile men."

Zoe fell asleep in my arms. I cradled her tenderly, gazing at her
innocent face. She smelled delicious, the fresh clean scent that only
little girls have, and I was tempted to fuck the child again. My cock
twitched with anticipation. That set off the alarm bells. I
reluctantly shook Zoe awake.

"I'm sorry, but it's time for you to go. It's time for my next
appointment."

"Oh. Okay, and thank you."

"No, I thank you." I hugged Zoe tightly then kissed her lightly on
the forehead. She reluctantly got off the bed and left through the
door barely half an hour after entering, her thighs glistening where
my cum had leaked out and dried.

I gently washed my cock and patted it dry. With the amount of
service it saw, it got sore very easily. I replaced the bed cover and
ran the air filter for a couple of minutes to suck away the smell of
sex. Then I pushed the button on the intercom.

"Next please!" 

 ****

The girl who walked through the door was the archetypal  teenage boy
and middle-aged man's wet dream. Blonde hair, green eyes, pretty
face, superb figure. She was  well into her teens and filled her
white bra and panties quite spectacularly. Certainly bigger than an A
cup size, she was not my cup of tea at all.

"How did you pass the selection process?" I asked her.

"My mother knows a few people."

"I'm sorry, but you're far too old for me."

"Hasn't my mother spoken to you?"

The medics on my space station were excellent, taking good care of
the girls and looking after my own occasional health needs. They
disguised their distaste for me rather poorly so I tended to avoid
them and I certainly didn't socialise with them. The thought that one
of them had abused her position to slip her daughter through the
selection process annoyed me and I resolved to do something about it.

"Who is your mother?"

"Lucinda Whitely. I'm Camilla."  

I didn't recognise the name as belonging to one of the medics, then
it suddenly dawned on me. The UN negotiator. I was well aware how
much I owed her. I had talked to her a lot in the months following my
initial blackmail demand. I was impressed by her professionalism, her
calm manner and non-judgementalism. At times, I even wondered if she
was somehow on my side.

"I haven't spoken to your mother for quite a while," I informed her.

Camilla's face dropped despairingly. It really shook me that one of
the most well-balanced rational women on the planet was prepared to
send her underage daughter to me for impregnation. 

"Do you know what I am?" I continued.

"Yes, mum warned me. She told me you couldn't help yourself and that
I shouldn't hate you as a person."

I thought for a few moments.

"Look, Camilla, I need to talk to your mother. Can you go back to
your cabin, and I'll come and see you later."

Each girl had her own private cabin while on the space station, that
was one of Lucinda's recommendations. I could patch a comm link to
the UN from this cabin, but I didn't want to do it in front of
Camilla and I needed additional privacy.

Camilla told me her cabin number then left with a slight glimmer of
hope back in her eyes. I donned a pair of boxer shorts before leaving
what I call 'the breeding room'. There's little privacy in space and
most people quickly realise there's no point in wearing clothes. Even
my basic mining ship had climate control and I habitually went naked.
However I had adopted the convention of keeping some modesty in
public on the space station so as not to offend the sensibilities of
the medics or the girls.

I made my way to the space station's comms centre and secured the
door behind me. I activated the UN videolink hotline, installation of
which had been another of Lucinda's suggestions.

"Hi, is there a problem?" I recognised the Afro-Caribbean features
of Akindele Bwanda, one of the permanent undersecretaries, and one of
the few UN staff who didn't obviously despise me.

"No problem, but I need to talk to Lucinda Whitely on a personal
matter."

"I'll try to track her down, but it might take a while. Shall I ask
her to call you?"

"I'll wait, thanks."

The screen went blank. It was some considerable time before Lucinda
appeared on the videolink, and from the buildings in the background
she was definitely not at UN Headquarters. The family resemblance to
Camilla was obvious.

"Hi, it's been a while. How are you keeping?" she asked.

I hadn't worked out what to say, so I just said the obvious and
watched for the reaction.

"Your daughter's on my space station." 

That was the first time I had ever seen Lucinda rattled. She looked
around nervously, checking that nobody could overhear.

"She wasn't supposed to arrive for another fortnight, and only if I
got your agreement first. I should have called you before now but
this Middle East crisis has occupied my full attention. I'm sorry,
she must have changed the date on her travel permit. What have you
done with her?" Lucinda was gabbling nervously.

"Take it easy, your daughter's okay, I sent her back to her cabin
until I'd had a chance to talk to you. There's obviously a reason for
her coming here, so why don't you talk me through it. And what's
happening in the Middle East?"

It was hugely ironic that I was more up-to-date with world affairs
during my isolation in the Kuiper Belt than I was while hovering a
few miles above the earth. 

"Three major religions are centred here. Each think they are God's
chosen people and deserve preferential access to your services. There
is continuous rioting and it's all we can do to stop them starting a
full-scale war."

That was more like the in-control Lucinda I was familiar with, but
now she hesitated. I saw her upper lip quiver and her eyes moisten.

"There's no easy way to say this." Lucinda spoke in short stacatto
sentences as she bared her emotions. "I'm dying of cancer. The latest
drugs are slowing its progress, but I've got a year at most. Camilla
knows. She asked me what my dying wish would be. I said I'd love to
see a grandchild. Camilla is focussed and driven, like me. It was her
idea to come to you, and I used my influence to gatecrash the system.
I expect I'll lose my job for this, but I don't mind. I'm tired. The
job has taken my marriage, my husband and most of my life. Is it too
selfish of me to ask for a little in return?"

My mind was reeling with the ramifications. I was going to lose the
one person in the world I could trust.

"No. I owe you big time."

"Will you do it for me and Camilla?"

"It won't be easy but I'll give it my best shot."

"Thank you, that would make me very happy."

Something exploded in the background, and people started shouting
urgently. Lucinda turned away from the screen while someone spoke to
her. When she turned back, professional Lucinda had returned. 

"I have to go. We're being evacuated because they can't guarantee
our safety. I'll call you when I can."

The screen went blank. I sat and thought for a while. I didn't want
to, but I had to go and face Camilla. I made my way to her cabin and
knocked on the door. It was ironic that I was seeking permission to
enter since it was my space station.

"Come in," Camilla invited via the doorcom.

The door slid open. Camilla was sitting on her bed, still in bra and
panties. When she saw me, the look of combined hope and desperation
again haunted her pretty face.

"I've spoken to your mother. She says you weren't due for another
fortnight, and then only with my agreement."

"She told you about the cancer, and how long she's got left?"

"Yes."

"I'm right in the middle of my fertile period. Another fortnight
would have meant a month's delay."

I could see her point, and I grudgingly admired her initiative.

"I owe your mother a lot, and I've agreed to help you," I admitted

At this revelation, Camilla's face broke into a huge grin. She leapt
off the bed and hugged me, kissing me on the cheek and grinding her
lightly-clad breasts into my chest.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you."

I gently pushed her away.

"Look, you know my selection criteria. It's not going to be easy. We
might have to resort to artificial insemination, but I'm willing to
try the natural way first."

"I'd like that. I'd like to sleep with the father of my child."

I suppose we could have tried there and then, but instead I delayed
the moment of truth.

"I guess I owe the world a few more clients today. When I've
finished, let's get some food from the refectory and take it back to
my private quarters so we can talk."

Camilla nodded her agreement, and I made my way back to the
'breeding room'.

****

I serviced three more girls. My mind was elsewhere, but my body
functioned on autopilot. I have absolutely no memory of the girls, or
how they endured the process.

Afterwards I met up with Camilla and we went to the refectory. There
were no set mealtimes and people tended to eat when they felt like
it. There was a handful of girls in the refectory but but no medics.
I deliberately avoided looking at the girls in case I recognised
them. All conversation stopped when we entered, and I sensed the eyes
watching us.  

Most food on earth is grown in huge protein vats. They produce a
nutritious substance that contains everything a human body needs. A
simple space ship like my mining vessel was provided with a supply of
the basic protein. It's a greyish-green solid without much taste. The
substance can be diluted with lots of water to make a sort of soup, a
little water to make something with the consistency of porridge, or
even chewed dry provided it's well masticated before swallowing. The
protein is stored and issued by an auto-chef machine, which can add
flavourings like chilli (my favourite) or tomato sauce. I have such a
machine in my private quarters so I don't have to meet other people
if I choose not to.

Protein vats can be seeded with DNA to produce, for example, beef
protein. Cows are only found in zoos these days. The auto-chef in the
refectory is very sophisticated (thanks to Lucinda) and filled
monthly with constantly changing protein types and the appropriate
menu programmes to accompany them, and provides a surprisingly wide
range of experiences. Last month there was an African theme,
including lion, hippopotamus and giraffe protein.

I chose steak and chips and Camilla chose chicken curry, and we beat
a hasty retreat to my private quarters. As we sat down and started to
eat, I initiated the conversation.

"How old are you?"

"Fourteen three months ago."

"If you get pregnant, who's going to carry the baby to term?"

"I am."

The shocked expression on my face must have been obvious, because
Camilla felt the need to explain.

"I'm healthy and well developed for my age, and I'll have turned
fifteen by the time the baby's due."

"Surely the authorities won't let you? You're not here legally and
the planetary age of consent is eighteen so they'll extract the
embryo when you return to earth."

"I was hoping to stay here until the baby's born. The baby will be
okay because it's in a weightless environment in the womb anyway. I
should be okay too because Mum really went to town with the gravity
devices. The ones installed here are so new they aren't commercially
available yet, and they're passing tests of suitability for children.
I don't mind living in a child cabin."

The little minx had certainly thought everything through, including
not seeing her mother for nine months. Her hips looked as though they
would be wide enough to pass a baby, and even if not, the medics
would be capable of performing a C-section.

"What if multiple embryos get fertilised?"

"I haven't had the hormone treatment!"

I guess I should have seen that coming. The girls' fertile periods
are altered by the hormone treatments so they reach me at exactly the
right time. The fact that Camilla had expedited her arrival by a
fortnight implied that she hadn't had the hormone treatments.

After that bombshell, the conversation for the rest of the meal was
mere trivia related to the operation of the space station. As we
sipped our drinks to wash the meal down, I could feel the tension
rising as the moment of truth drew near. When I could no longer
pretend that my empty beaker held any liquid, I came out with what
must rank as one of the worst seduction lines in history.

"I guess we'd better get down to making the baby."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Take your clothes off and lie on the bed."

Camilla unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor, revealing her
firm young breasts in all their glory. Then she peeled her panties
down and kicked them over to join her bra. She had a light thatch of
blonde hair on her pussy. Damn, I should have asked her to shave but
it was too late now. Gracefully Camilla walked to the bed and lay
down with her legs apart. I peeled off my boxers and kicked them over
to join Camilla's underwear. Another damn, as my lifeless cock
dangled uselessly.

I crawled onto the bed between Camilla's legs. Although her nubile
body was doing nothing for me, at least I could try to make things
more pleasant for her. I planted butterfly kisses on the inside of
her ankles, then gently worked my way up the insides of her legs.
Camilla relaxed and I could feel some of the tension in the air
dissipate.

I ignored Camilla's pussy for the moment, and kissed my way up her
belly, licking her belly button, then up to her breasts. I took one
nipple into my mouth while gently squeezing the other. I groped the
other breast, squeezing it tenderly so as not to hurt Camilla. I
didn't really know what to do with breasts since my usual partners
didn't have any.

"Let me know if I hurt you."

"That's good. Harder, harder," urged Camilla in a husky voice.

I used both hands to knead both breasts violently, until they became
suffused with angry red streaks and I judged it was time to pay some
attention to Camilla's pussy. I rubbed it while probing gently with a
finger. Camilla was quite moist. Holding the pussy hair at bay, I
parted her labia and lowered my head. I licked the length of her
cunny ending at her tiny erect little button. Camilla moaned with
pleasure. I tested Camilla's cunny with a finger and found a surprise
- her hymen was intact! Camilla was a virgin, and not having passed
through the selection process she hadn't had her hymen surgically
removed. I should have guessed.

I continued to lick Camilla's cunny and tease her clit. Her
breathing became shallower and more rapid and I tried to keep pace.
Suddenly every muscle seemed to clench and she let out a squeal. She
pressed her cunny into my face and I could feel the throbbing as
orgasm swept over her. I continued to lick and tease, prolonging the
orgasm as long as I could, but eventually it died away and Camilla
relaxed again.

"God, that was amazing," she said in a quiet voice. "Your face is
wet!"

Camilla's juices were dripping off my chin. I wiped myself dry.

"You did that," I accused light-heartedly.

"Are you going to fuck me now?"

"We have a problem," I admitted. My cock was dangling flaccidly
between my legs.

"I may be able to help with that."

Camilla got on her hands and knees, took the head of my cock in her
mouth and started sucking. She grasped the shaft with one hand and
started pumping. Slowly my cock struggled to life.

"How did you learn to do that?" I asked delightedly.

Camilla let the head of my cock slip out of her mouth but continued
pumping the shaft.

"I studied some porn movies before I set off, just in case."

Camilla then licked the underside of my shaft right down to the
balls, causing me to shiver.

"Oh God, yes," I encouraged her.

Camilla resumed sucking the head of my cock and pumping the shaft.
She cupped my balls with her spare hand and massaged them with a
featherlight touch. I felt my groin start to tighten and I pushed her
away. She looked crestfallen.

"Sorry, was I doing it wrong?"

"No, you were doing it too well. I nearly came in your mouth. I
think I'm ready for you now."

My cock was rock hard and precum was seeping from the eye.

Camilla lay back down on the bed with her legs wide open. I knelt
between them and manoeuvred into position. Already I could feel my
hard-on subsiding. I looked at Camilla's flared hips, the tuft of
blonde pubic hair, the ripe young breasts. Then I smelt her womanly
scent and I was lost. My cock was now only half erect, not capable of
penetrating Camilla's hymen. I pulled away.

"I'm sorry," I admitted, ashamed, "I just can't do this. We'll have
to use artificial insemination."

I got off the bed, selected a clean beaker and started to rub my
flaccid cock. Camilla was watching me carefully. This was turning
into a nightmare, now I couldn't even masturbate. I closed my eyes
and tried to think of something other than Camilla watching me.
Suddenly I remembered Zoe, the really cute child from earlier that
day with the delicious scent. My cock stirred to life and grew hard.
As I pumped my shaft, I used my mind to replay the experience of
Zoe's slender thighs and tight little cunny. My cock was now rock
hard and I knew I wasn't far away.

Camilla broke my concentration with an insightful observation.

"You're fantasising, aren't you."

I awoke from my reverie and released my cock, the magic broken. A
drop of precum seeped from the tip.

"Yes," I admitted ruefully.

"Do I know her?"

Camilla hadn't judged me so far, so I decided to risk telling her.

"One of my appointments today, a girl called Zoe."

"I've met her!" exclaimed Camilla with a note of childish excitement
in her voice. "She's really pretty and lovely person too. You made a
good choice."

My cock was shrinking rapidly now, and Camilla realised what she'd
done by interrupting me. But then, without a hint of jealousy, she
came up with an extraordinary suggestion.

"Do you think you could fantasise about Zoe while fucking me?"

I thought for a while.

"We might be able to make it work. The problem is that Zoe has a
unique scent that really turns me on. If she were here in the room
with us so I could smell her instead of you, I think I could do it."

In retrospect, Camilla could easily have taken offence at this
slight against her natural scent, but she had her mother's focussed
practical attitude. She alighted from the bed and put her bra and
panties back on.

"I'll fetch her. I know which cabin she's in."

Camilla left my quarters with a spring in her step. A few minutes
later there was a knock on the door.

"We're here," Camilla called through the doorcom, and I let them in.
I smirked involuntarily at the wet patch on the crotch of Camilla's
panties. She saw where I was looking and blushed.

"Oh God, I wonder how many people saw that!"

Zoe saw too and tried to stifle a giggle. This time Zoe was dressed
in a pink t-shirt a blue shorts.

"Right, everyone take their clothes off," ordered Camilla. I was
still naked, but Camilla quickly slipped out of her bra and sex-
stained panties. I watched Zoe take slightly longer to shed her t-
shirt and shorts. When I saw her prepubescent beauty in all its
glory, my cock twitched back to life.

"How do you want to do this?" asked Camilla.

I thought for a while.

"I can't be on top of you and I can't be behind you. I think I'll
have to be lying with you sitting on me. And Zoe, since you have to
be closer to my nose than Camilla, you'll have to sit on my face. Are
you happy with that?"

Funny, earlier that day Zoe had had no choice while I fucked her.
Now I was asking her permission to use her.

"If that's okay with Camilla."

I saw why Camilla liked Zoe so much. She was in a situation that no-
one could ever have prepared her for and yet her first consideration
was for others.

I laid on the bed, my cock flaccid again. Camilla came and knelt
over my groin and I felt the heat of her thighs on my hips. Zoe came
and knelt over my head so I could smell her delicious scent.

"Move forwards a bit. Now lower yourself," I instructed her.

Zoe's beautiful bald pussy was now directly over my mouth. I parted
her labia and started to lick inside. Although Zoe's body blocked my
view, I felt Camilla suck my cock into her mouth. Zoe smelt clean and
fresh outside but there was slightly bitter salty taste inside so
although she'd showered after I'd fucked her, she'd been careful not
to clean my baby juice from her cunny.

I was fully hard now, so Camilla released my cock from her mouth. I
felt her shift position so that my cock was at the entrance to her
cunny. I was licking Zoe's cunny with a vengeance, and I was rewarded
with a little moistness. Camilla pushed down gently, but the head of
my cock reached her hymen and wouldn't go any further.

I broke off from twirling Zoe's cute little button with my tongue.

"Thrust down hard," I shouted.

I pushed my tongue into Zoe's cunny just as Camilla thrust down hard
on my cock. Zoe squealed with pleasure while Camilla grunted with
pain when my cock burst through her hymen and plunged deep inside
her. I licked the length of Zoe's cunny  while Camilla held herself
completely still to let the pain subside.

At last Camilla started fucking me, raising and lowering herself on
my cock. Her cunny was hot and tight and she was able to take almost
the whole of my length, but I still preferred Zoe. I took a deep
breath to savour Zoe's delicious little girl scent while imagining it
was her cunt that was fucking me. I felt my groin tighten, and I knew
this was going to work. As my cock throbbed its first spurt of baby-
juice into Camilla, I sucked Zoe's clit into my mouth and gently
nipped it with my teeth. Zoe squealed and gripped my head tightly
between her thighs as she reached orgasm, pushing her cunny down hard
on my mouth. I took another deep breath of her irresistible scent and
kept on spurting. Suddenly Camilla's body responded in kind as she
too reached orgasm, her pulsating cunny milking the baby-juice from
my cock and prolonging my orgasm.

At last we all collapsed in a post orgasmic heap. This time it was
Zoe's juices I had to wipe from my chin.

"Wow!" was all any of us could say at first.

Zoe noticed the bloodstained cum seeping from Camilla's cunny. She
swiped it up onto her index finger which she then inserted them into
her own cunny.

"No point in wasting it," she observed.

****

Two years have passed since that fateful day.

I only ever fucked Camilla that one occasion and she struck lucky
first time. General Bordinov tried to order the space station to be
blasted out of the sky when he discovered that I had Lucinda's
pregnant daughter on board. Lucinda is dead now but she got her wish
to see a grandchild, our son Daniel. It was considered too dangerous
for me to go to earth for the funeral so it was held in space,
Lucinda's ashes being blasted into space.

Before she died, Lucinda completely renegotiated my treaty with the
UN for me. My space station is now a sovereign state, with Camilla,
now sixteen, my ambassador to the UN. She spends most of her time on
earth with Daniel and I think she's rather keen on Arima, the
eighteen year old son of Akindele Bwanda. I've met him and he's a
nice lad so I'm happy for her, but she insists she's too young to
settle down.

Zoe produced five viable embryos, all successfully carried to term
by surrogate mothers. Zoe, now thirteen, is my wife. The return of
Zoe to the space station, with her full and delighted consent, was
arranged by Lucinda. Zoe's well into puberty now with rapidly growing
breasts and widening hips. Somehow it doesn't matter, she smells the
same and I just can't get enough of her. Her only concession is to
shave her pussy for me. We have lots and lots of sex but we're not
going to have any more children until she's fully mature. Can a
pedophile ever be "cured"? I don't know, but if anyone can cure me
it's Zoe.

I no longer take children for impregnation. Instead I supply sperm
samples and ship them down to earth for artificial insemination. That
way the authorities can impregnate far more subjects, and it's
beginning to look as though civilisation on earth will survive. Zoe
helps me produce the sperm samples, as does Camilla when she's here.
Camilla still does an irresistible blow-job, pulling her mouth away
just as I start to spurt.

My kids with Zoe now live with us on the space station after the
surrogate mothers were given cash compensation plus artificial
insemination so that they could bear biologically-related children.
The kids have just started to toddle and are proving quite a handful
so I'm grateful Lucinda negotiated for some of the medics to stay and
help look after them. The medics are keeping a close eye on their
health and so far they're developing normally despite the artificial
gravity. The medics still don't like me, but they love Zoe and treat
her like a daughter.

In about ten years time my male offspring should start to produce
their own sperm and make me redundant. Thanks to Lucinda I have the
rights to the mined Uranium ore awaiting collection from the Kuiper
Belt, so money should never be a problem. Who knows what the future
holds? But right now, life is good.